Chapter 45: Shadows in the Glade

Arc scrambled to his feet, wet mud caking his robes and hands. He glanced up the slope behind him, heart pounding in his chest. The slick incline shimmered with moisture, but it wasn't the terrain that held his attention -- it was the three Echomaws still pursuing him. "At least three," he corrected himself. That was all he could see clearly through the misty canopy.

"Not good," he muttered under his breath, legs already moving.

He sprinted, lungs burning, but it was too late. One of the Echomaws leapt from the top of the slope, its powerful limbs launching it through the air. It landed in front of Arc with a guttural snarl, blocking the path ahead. The beast stood upright, humanoid in shape, nearly as tall as an average adult male. Its thick, fur-covered hide bristled with moisture, and its long tail twitched with predatory excitement.

Arc skidded to a halt, cursing under his breath. He turned his head slightly to check behind him. The other two Echomaws were lingering at the edge of the slope, hesitant. Why? He didn’t know, but the one before him showed no such reluctance. It was younger, leaner, but more muscular than the others -- and filled with bloodlust.

"Looks like I’m not getting out of this without a fight."

With a sharp breath, Arc drew both daggers -- his dominant hand gripping the one Mica had lent him,

pointing upwards

The other is holding the workshop's spare blade, pointing downwards. He slid into a low stance, knees bent, eyes locked on the creature ahead. A determined grin tugged at his lips.

"Very well, then."

The Echomaw lunged first, claws slashing. Arc parried, the clash of steel and beast reverberating through his arms. The creature was fast -- faster than anything Arc had fought before. It struck with brute force and terrifying precision. Arc ducked, rolled, and countered with quick slashes, but the beast’s fur was thick, and his blades barely cut through its thick skin.

For a full minute, they danced a deadly waltz of strikes and counters. Neither side gained ground. Arc breathed hard, sweat mixing with the damp forest air. Notably, neither had used magic yet. As for why? The lesson from Liya was still ringing in his head loud and clear, and he wanted to conserve his energy as much as possible. He didn’t know whether the Echomaw could wield offensive magic of any kind or not, so he had been conserving his mana just in case the other two joined the fray.

Then, the Echomaw stopped attacking.

It backed away slowly, its grin widening into something far too human. Arc tensed.

“Just what are you planning now?” he muttered.

The creature raised both claws apart and opened its grotesque mouth wide open. Wind began to spiral around it violently with each passing second, and the spiral kept growing and intensifying.

"No," Arc breathed. "Don't you dare. I can't handle that!"

Too late. The Echomaw unleashed a barrage of wind spells -- a breath attack amplified by raw force and wind attribute mana. It screamed, and from its open jaws, a violent gust surged forth, sweeping up wet debris and jagged stones. The sound was deafening.

Arc dove to the side, barely dodging the brunt of the attack. Pebbles sliced through his sleeves and nicked his skin. He crashed into the underbrush, gasping. The force of the spell left the air vibrating.

"If that had hit me dead on..."

He clenched his jaw. He couldn't afford to wait for another breath attack like that one. His blades alone wouldn't cut it. It was time to use magic.

Arc's mind raced. From his recent encounters, he noticed something: the Echomaws used sound to navigate. They had eyes, yes, but it was the echoes, the vibrations -- their true guide in darkness.

"So that’s how they found me after I used my detection spell... Man, that was a stupid decision I took. Lucky, I am still alive."

After witnessing the earlier attack, an old memory was triggered—a spark of an idea he never had the chance to put into motion. "No more hesitation." He poured mana into the dagger in his right hand, weaving it along the blade in fine threads. Then he slowly ordered it to vibrate, creating a subtle motion that made the blade hum with a sharp, high-pitched note. The edges shimmered as he carefully adjusted the frequency. He made sure not to raise it too high or too low, unsure if it would work properly. He understood that increasing the frequency too much would quickly dull the blade, while a lower frequency posed its risks, yielding minimal results. The degradation was slow and less perilous, but a cautious approach was necessary, as there was also the risk of the blade chipping away like shattering glass or deforming from sheer heat alone. Moreover, higher frequencies would drain more mana. There was risk in every decision, but this was his only choice. These thoughts lingered in his mind as he focused on igniting the spell.

"Let’s see if this works."

It did work. He applied the spell on the second one as well, as He charged at his target.

The Echomaw began preparing another attack, this one bigger, denser, stronger. Arc knew he wouldn’t dodge this one. To his right were the trees, and the fog-covered slope he came down from and to his left were the thick mist-filled dark woods. There was no way out.

So, he didn’t try.

He sprinted full tilt at the Echomaw, pouring everything into the oscillating blade. But just as the creature prepared to unleash its next roar, something massive erupted from the woods to Arc’s left.

A shadow burst from the underbrush, snarling and wild. A beast -- a mana beast, enormous and unfamiliar -- lunged at the Echomaw. It tackled the creature mid-spell, teeth sinking into its throat.

Arc staggered to a halt mid-course.

"What the hell...?!"

The Echomaw screeched in agony, its spell fizzling out as the larger beast tore into it. Blood sprayed the clearing. The other two Echomaws remained rooted at the top of the slope, eyes wide. They weren’t hesitating out of fear of Arc -- they had sensed this other predator lurking more like they knew out of years of honed instinct.

"That explains why they didn’t attack me before. Looks like experience is a good teacher after all." Arc smirked in realisation.

He looked once at the carnage unfolding before him -- the Echomaw being devoured, the other two retreating, the towering figure of the unknown mana beast rising amid the carnage.

"That howling monkey was bad enough," he muttered. "Now this thing? Nope. I’m out."

He cancelled the spell on his blade to conserve mana and unnecessary blade deterioration. He quickly bolted into the woods to his left, sprinting past trees and tangled roots, never once looking back.

The forest swallowed him whole.

Arc ran without stopping, his breath ragged and lungs burning, every heartbeat like thunder in his ears. The dense jungle blurred past him in shades of green and brown, a kaleidoscope of shadow and dread. He didn’t dare glance back until the telltale rustling and crashing behind him grew louder -- closer. Something was chasing him. And not just anything. It was the same beast from before.

"That thing is after me now!"

A glance over his shoulder confirmed his fear. The creature was galloping, bounding diagonally toward him with terrifying speed, its eyes locked onto its prey.

“If I slow down, I’m done for,” Arc thought, panic rising like bile in his throat.

But fate hadn’t abandoned him just yet.

Out of nowhere, a glint of silver streaked through the canopy above -- a rope, swinging down like a lifeline from the heavens. It shimmered faintly, catching what little light filtered through the forest’s dense leaves. Along with it came a voice, urgent and commanding:

“Hey, over here," the loud voice told Arc. The voice was coming from the direction of the rope, and Arc was not going to let this opportunity pass up. "Quickly grab the rope -- now! It's heading straight for you!”

Arc didn’t hesitate. His legs pushed off instinctively as his arm shot up, fingers closing around the rope’s rough weave. The moment his grip tightened, he was yanked skyward, lifted high into the towering branches above.

Below him, the creature skidded to a halt and slammed into the tree trunk with a furious snarl. It barked viciously, its glowing eyes locked on Arc. The beast gathered mana, the air around it distorting with the raw energy it summoned.

Arc clung to the rope, heart pounding as he stared down at the creature. "It’s not letting up," he muttered under his breath. He braced himself for another attack.

Then, another voice cut through the tension. Calm, but alert:

“Relax. That one can’t climb. We’re safe here -- for now.”

Arc turned his head toward the voice. Standing on a sturdy platform built between the tree limbs was a boy about his age, a lean figure with windswept hair and forest-toned gear. His expression was calm but watchful.

The boy raised an eyebrow in silent question, as if asking Arc’s name.

Still catching his breath, Arc merely responded with a weak shrug, then reached down and grabbed a satchel of water tied to the boy’s belt. He took several desperate gulps before gasping for air.

“Arc,” he finally said, between breaths. “Arc... Arc Crafter.”

The boy smiled, extending a hand.

“Luka Forrester. Nice to meet you, Arc.”

"So, that voice from earlier, it was you, right?" Arc asked, still breathing heavily but less so than before.

"Course it was me who else do you see around here other than us?" the boy retorted.

The two boys stood there, suspended above the dangers below, as the jungle trembled with unseen threats. But for now -- at least for now -- they had a moment of safety.

Somewhere deep within the Beast Glades, not far from Outpost Seven, the air was thick with smoke and the stench of blood.

"Commander Kaelon Ashspire, we've received a direct order from General Azure himself," a soldier announced, stepping forward, a sealed scroll in hand.

Kaelon didn’t look up. He was too preoccupied with the restrained goblin before him. His black blade, still dripping with fresh blood, glinted ominously in the torchlight. Another goblin, lying dead nearby, was charred beyond recognition.

"Read it to me," Kaelon barked. "I'm a little busy."

He shoved the tip of his blade closer to the neck of the surviving goblin. "You saw what I did to your friend. Now talk. Where’s your village?"

The goblin squirmed, terror flickering in its yellow eyes. Nearby, the soldier began to read the message aloud, but his voice was soon drowned out as the second goblin hesitantly spoke up.

"grr... W-We’re based in a cave system... underground. Head east -- there’s a mountain with a gaping hole at its base. That’s the entrance."

Kaelon turned to a third goblin, narrowing his eyes. "Is that true?"

The third goblin nodded frantically. A fourth echoed the same. Then a fifth, and so on, each shaking their heads in fear.

"Good," Kaelon muttered. "See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?"

Without hesitation, he drew his blade fully and activated a fire enchantment. The edge of his sword ignited in crimson flame, and with a single, sweeping motion, he incinerated all the captured goblins. Their shrieks were brief, except for the one who spoke first, who gave an ominous laugh as the light in his eyes fizzled out. Ash was all that remained.

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Was that necessary, Commander?" Nova, one of Kaelon's most trusted subordinates, finally spoke up. Her voice held a note of disapproval.

Kaelon turned his fiery gaze toward her. "Shut up, Nova. You of all people should know better. If our roles were reversed, those pests would have done far worse to us than what I did to them. And besides, I ended it quickly." He shifted his gaze to the charred remains of the goblins and spoke again, "Efficiently."

Nova didn’t reply, her jaw tightening as the acrid smoke filled her lungs.

"Now then," Kaelon exhaled, tossing aside the smouldering remains of his latest interrogation. "What did the general say again? I couldn’t hear a damn thing over all this noise." he unsheathed his blade, rubbing the sweat off his forehead.

Nova raised a brow. "Then why did you have him read it aloud in the first place?"

Kaelon ignored the comment and held out his hand. "You there. Hand over the damn letter."

"Yes, commander," the soldier replied, coughing as the soot began to settle.

"Never mind," Nova muttered as Kaelon snatched the letter and unsealed it himself.

His eyes scanned the contents, and with a snarl of annoyance, he crumpled the parchment and tossed it into a nearby dying flame.

"The general wants us to station a hundred men per outpost and retreat the rest of our forces back to the base until further notice," Kaelon spat.

"You do realise I can read, right?" he added dryly to Nova.

Nova crossed her arms. "Then you know the implications. If we disobey, we’ll be going directly against General Michael's command."

Kaelon’s eyes narrowed. "If we pull back now, the nearby outposts will be exposed. You saw for yourself what we faced just now, didn't you? With their reduced manpower, they won’t stand a chance against a full assault. This smells like Azure's doing. Just what is he thinking? I’ve never liked that guy."

"So what do you propose? That we march into the enemy’s den and pretend the order doesn’t exist?" Nova shot back.

"Not exactly," Kaelon said, pacing. "But something close. We now know the enemy’s location. Here’s what we’re going to do."

He turned to face his troops. He unsheathed his blade and pierced its tip into the ground while placing his palms on top of each other, resting on the blade's pummel and began to address them in a loud, confident voice.

"Once the mission here is completed, we’ll re-station troops at the nearby outposts to avoid giving up ground. But we’ll also send a small detachment ahead of time -- messengers. They’ll inform the central base of the situation so they can prepare and adjust accordingly."

He looked at Nova. "If this order does go through, we run the risk of goblin retaliation on under-staffed outposts nearby. By dealing with this excursion here, we will be making our reach here more secure. That way, when we act, it won’t be complete chaos. Intel, after this order is followed through, will travel slower -- if we clear this hurdle here, we stay one step ahead."

Nova nodded slowly. "Understood."

"Tonight, we show these Goblin pests what the men under the Crafter banner are made of. Tonight, we prove to soldiers of other noble houses what we are capable of. Tonight, we show the king's army that we stand equal to them. Tonight, we claim that glory!" He raised his blade high with his left hand and declared, "Tonight we get to make history. So, men, will you join me in this epic battle for ultimate glory?!" A second of silence was broken by deafening cheers and cries of "Yes! Commander!" as they lifted their blades and weapons into the air, mirroring Kaelon, their commander.

He sheathed his blade, the fire along its edge dying out with a hiss. He stepped from the stand and spoke to Nova," Good, the men are charged. Now we strike before nightfall."

***